kira kira
by Koyuki Aode
Summary: [COM] 12 AU.Nagi is the adopted son of a kabuki family, shunned by peers.The night he finally gets the spotlight, a pair of glasses in the audience catches his eye and he forgets himself, and discovers a future called Schwarz.NC shounen ai
1. prologue : goodbye yesterday

  
_.·-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-·._  
  
  
  
A/N: at bottom  
  
Warnings: Light shounen ai, shota-ish lusting and assault (by an OC), language.  
  
Disclaimer: I know I don't own them, but this particular story is mine. So don't sue me! All you'd get is a bundle of my hair, which I cut off a few months ago. (I have yet to find it and donate it to charity... it's probably still wet too.. o_O;)  
  
  
  
**kira.kira**  
by Koyuki Aode  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
I don't know why I'm typing this.  
  
  
I just got this computer today. Crawford bought it for me (note to self: he blinks rapidly when you call him Brad and has a wallet larger than the entire island of Honshu) and I wanted to try it out. This machine and I just clicked upon its awakening, like I'd known this rectangular radioactive monster from birth, and Crawford is satisfied.   
  
  
But I didn't expect that my fingers would lead me to this program, and I'm not sure how they're typing along these keys. Perhaps my hands aren't speaking. Perhaps my heart is speaking, and this invisible force I seem to have discovered in myself is bleeding somehow. All I know, is that now everything has changed. And I don't ever want to forget how it happened.   
  
  
Someday, I'll look back at this.  
  
  
I wonder if I will regret it all. I wonder if I do now.  
  
  
One useful thing I've learned in my time before Schwarz, is to have no regrets, that – if you really want to survive - all there is, is the future.  
  
  
I didn't expect there would ever be a time when I could take it so literally.  
  
  
Now, Crawford's hand has slipped from my shoulder and he leaves the room as uneventfully as he can, allowing me my privacy as I pour my heart out. "Don't forget to save constantly," he warns softly before the door clicks shut. Apparently, even Japan's computers are not without flaw.  
  
  
He's also warned me that my heart will not last, that the twinkle in his eyes will fade, and that as soon as I take a life, my own will belong to him.  
  
  
He forgot that he already has my heart.  
  
  
He took it when he offered me his.  
  
  
I don't think he wants to accept what has transpired between us just yet. I doubt he understands it. I'm not sure I want to. It makes me wonder what Haruki and Natsumare's reactions would be. Me, the disgusting little eel, gay? And slithering into – of all people – an American assassin's heart? This would only confirm their suspicions and, in their minds, justify their cruelty.   
  
  
But I've never felt this way about someone before. It could just be the shock of living with an entire group of people who care about keeping me alive. It might be admiration for having saved me from that frightening man, Takaguchi. It could be the utter fear my heart collapses to when I realize just how powerful Schwarz is.  
  
  
It could be gratitude for giving me a chance to taste victory by living a better life.  
  
  
But above all, it could be…  
  
  
Well, I was on a roll until just now. I suppose, if I can't even look at the word, the only emotional exchange between Crawford and I will be a dialogue of silence.  
  
  
But that's just how it began. And look how far it's gotten me.  
  
  
[tbc]  
  
  
A/N:.. Y'know, a person tries to finish the most pivotal part of her fic, she TRIES to get ready to move to college, and she TRIES to get sleep, but somehow, she just ends up writing extra crud that keeps pestering her and keeps her awake till the sun comes out …….. Argh. Does anyone actually care about this? It's a short one, really. REALLY. /-_-; And pretty predictable too…  
  
  
  



	2. chapter one : eyes on me

  
  
  
_.·-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-·._  
  
  
  
Thanks to: Pyrochan, Fierysable, and Triste for reviews in last chappie. :3  
  
A/N: at bottom  
  
Warnings/Disclaimer: see prologue  
  
-thoughts-  
  
  
  
**kira.kira**  
by Koyuki Aode  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
  
  
In kabuki, it's all about the eyes.  
  
  
If you draw them on right, you will have victories both on stage and in the audience. Anyway, that's how it was supposed to be. My eyes are particularly wide – open just more than slits, really - for a homegrown Japanese boy, and my former 'Kaasan considered taping them down at the beginning. She didn't.  
  
  
The audience never really saw me, and the stage hated me. Only my adopted 'Kaasan and 'Tousan loved me.  
  
  
I remember feeling very cold and alone the first time he caught my eye.  
  
  
Everyone gets stage fright, ne?  
  
  
But I was already on stage. And for goodness' sake, I'd forgotten the only line I'd ever been assigned in my life. Luckily, it wasn't my cue yet. I kept the rhythm of my right hand steady, twirling the fan in a perfect circle as I raised the other in the air. The light hit my skin, my white makeup surprised me and then - whoosh! like an eclipse, it almost blinded my apprehension.  
  
  
Certainly, I was not born to live on creaking wooden planks beneath the small burning suns, but I'd never been that nervous before.  
  
  
I gulped as the other boys, also dressed as geisha, stepped into another pattern beside me and each said their own respective line with ease. Each sentence was a tightened notch around my heart and throat.  
  
  
"I want to fall in love with a noble samurai."  
  
  
-Why can't I be like them?-  
  
  
"I want a politician who will build a city in my name."  
  
  
-Why couldn't I have their Kabuki-trained genes?-  
  
  
"I want a man like Harutake-sama."  
  
  
-Why is this kimono so tight and heavy?-  
  
  
Then silence singed my senses. Even the music had stopped. Expectation was a fog around me as I listened to the sound of my own fan still doing revolutions. Stage lights buzzed like flies, melting my makeup with sweat, and a thousand eyes watched me.  
  
  
Everything in kabuki – from gestures to projection - must be flawless for the audience, no matter how wrong it seems to the stage.  
  
  
I thanked kami that we were all wearing our white makeup, lest Natsumare's easily reddened cheeks give us away to the crowd.  
  
  
"Naoe-chan," my older brother forced my character's name through his smile as convincingly as he could, "What are your dreams? Who do you want as your destiny?"  
  
  
At this point, I had no idea what I was to say. All of my thoughts involved that flash I'd seen in the audience, what must have been the reflection from a pair of glasses. I could barely see their owner, but I felt like this person's gaze was pulling at my limbs, urging me off the stage and toward him. I thought for a moment he would steal my soul from my body and I would float to him like a white ghost, to be kept in his breast pocket for entertainment.  
  
  
Our dialogue of silence.  
  
  
It was not my soul he would end up keeping, but I would offer it to him anyway.  
  
  
His head of jet-black hair nodded at me and his glasses flashed again, looking like a first star in the darkness of the performance house.  
  
  
A door opened in my mind, suddenly.  
  
  
A star. My line was about a star. But I still couldn't remember...  
  
  
I snapped my fan closed. There was no more time to stall. Poor 'Tousan looked as if he would collapse from shame, his makeup flowing from his face in misted rivers.  
  
  
I held my fan behind my back and lowered my gaze to the floor. "I... don't know." Natsumare made a strangled noise in his throat, but I ignored it as I let my eyes pass over the glasses again. My heart took over - leaping up from my chest - and I found myself on my knees, staring hard at the ceiling, making out the night sky that existed above it.  
  
  
I spoke before I knew what words would jump from my lips: "I don't know what I want," I said in the perfect lost voice, "When I look at the stars, I don't cloud my mind with dreams - I watch the brightest twinkle." I snapped my fan open and held it up against imaginary beacons, "That one that catches my eye every night, that is the god who guides my future. If I follow it, I will find my star. I am the one who will shape this reality for myself."  
  
  
More silence. The boys in girls' clothing stared at me. The play is ruined, I thought, the audience will never come to see us again. Natsumare's face twitched as he tried not to betray the same sentiment.  
  
  
Haruki pushed the play along with his cue. "How can Naoe-chan live with such uncertainty?" he turned to the other "geisha" and laughed cruelly, which sounded all too familiar, "-Dreams keep the sad, pathetic ones alive."  
  
  
"No, you are wrong!"  
  
  
Stand, turn, flap fan, bow head and look sad. That part wasn't too hard. 'Tousan looked a little better now.  
  
  
I stalked towards the right exit, and had the mind to add as the laughter faded:  
  
  
"Dreams are what make us cry."  
  
  
*  
  
  
My heart was still between my ears as I stumbled backstage to find 'Kaasan.  
  
  
Behind me, I heard 'Tousan finish an angry line and stomp in my direction. 'Kaasan called to me from one of the rooms and I followed her voice. When I found the doorway that led me to her, I burst in and pulled my wig off, trying not to lose hold of my tears.  
  
  
I looked up and saw myself in a mirror, a troubling pale resemblance to the bewildered boy I was when I met the Fujihara troupe.  
  
  
"'Kaasan…"  
  
  
"Yokatta ne, Nagi-kun." Yuuko Fujihara was kneeling over a bed that held her youngest daughter. Shizuru had been sick with the flu for three days, which was why I had to take her place when we performed the new play.  
  
  
"…Demo."  
  
  
"You changed your line. We still look good. Ii da ne, Akachan. [1]"  
  
  
I sniffed. "Akachan ja nai yo."  
  
  
"Then don't let those tears fall," she said sternly. 'Kaasan always had a way of treating us like professionals, and still acting maternal. "They will ruin your eyes, which look so beautiful now." And she had a sixth sense concerning the stage. "Now please, get more water from the kitchen and find your father."  
  
  
When I looked, I realized that 'Tousan had disappeared from backstage. I checked every room to make sure, still clomping about in my costume slippers as actors' voices continued onstage with drunken banter and hearty insults. This lasted until the last door led me outside, and the voices were locked away.  
  
  
I liked kabuki better that way. In a place I could not touch.  
  
  
My chest had stopped pounding like a taiko drum, and the cold breeze filled me with release as I walked toward the theater kitchen.  
  
  
Darkness. This was my element, I believed, rather than the throes of glowing attention. Feeling whimsical, I indulged my terrible performance by looking up at the stars. Haruki's laughter bubbled up in my head when I did not even glimpse my bright god.  
  
  
Then the sky fell, and I was propelled backwards.  
  
  
Strong hands caught my sides before I reached the ground and pulled me up again. Startled, I gripped the arms these hands belonged to, and felt equally strong muscles contract as my balance was righted. My slippers clacked against the ground.  
  
  
"You should watch where you're going," the cream-colored suit admonished in English. It had a nice, smooth voice.  
  
  
I let my eyes travel up along the green necktie. My fingers tightened over course fabric and my breath caught in my throat.  
  
  
-I've found him.-  
  
  
He matched my thought with a surprised look of his own, his navy blue eyes growing wide as he examined my face though his glasses.  
  
  
You fool! screamed Common Sense (sounding more like Haruki than I cared for), Act Japanese!  
  
  
Immediately, at this whim, I looked away.  
  
  
"S-Sumimasen," I stuttered uncomfortably, caught where I was. His hands tightened on my body. As I moved to push away, my hand brushed against a foreign object against his ribs. It registered quickly in my mind. A gun.  
  
  
I pushed harder, fearing for my life. He finally let me go as two others approached us. Gently his grip faded, making sure I did not stumble as I hurriedly pulled back.  
  
  
"What's this you've picked up?" a nasal voice shot through the air, a sudden flare of conceit. It belonged to the redhead who approached us with an overconfident stride. "Oh Crawford, you got me a present," he drawled in mock surprise, placing his elbow on what I assumed to be Crawford's shoulder. "Certainly is pretty." He smirked in my direction, looking me up and down. I ran my tongue along the roof of my mouth, remembering not to lick up the makeup on my lips. "But do you have any idea how young he is?"  
  
  
"Young enough to hurt God," the second man said slowly. I gulped as I ran my eyes over the blade in his hand, then over his many scars on his white skin. His one visible eye seemed to mark target areas along my person. "His skin is begging to be stained."  
  
  
I pasted Crawford's name to his face as his shoulders relaxed in slight defeat. "Farfarello, don't touch him," said the sweeping voice in muted sternness. He locked his gaze with mine, somehow easing my qualms about him being a god of death. "He's the one."  
  
  
"Why am I the one?" I spoke up, utilizing my secret study of English. All three of them blinked in surprise. A question crossed Crawford's expression, but his face immediately hardened as he noticed something behind me.  
  
  
"Nagi-kun?"  
  
  
"'Tousan?" I turned around in surprise. He approached with another man, a businessman in a dull gray suit. "Where have you been? 'Kaasan wants—"  
  
  
"I'm busy now," 'Tousan said sharply. "With Takaguchi-san," he gestured to the businessman, "Takaguchi-san, this is Nagi, my adopted son. Tonight was his debut."  
  
  
I bowed deeply, murmuring the usual formalities. A rough hand slipped beneath my chin and urged me upward, and I found Takaguchi's face dangerously close to mine. "Mm," he grunted, "Nagi is a gentle name." As he pushed forward, I drew back, and in turn he placed his other hand behind my neck. I held my breath as his nose touched mine.  
  
  
"Takaguchi-san, please, the matter at hand," 'Tousan's voice tightened.  
  
  
Takaguchi smirked at me before releasing me. He turned fully to face my father. "Half," he said in a sort of victorious way, as if he'd just found gold.  
  
  
'Tousan suddenly became enraged. "**What?!**"  
  
  
Takaguchi nodded. "I will relieve half of your debt."  
  
  
"No."  
  
  
"You're refusing this kindness?" Takaguchi's eyebrow twitched, "After all the kindness I've shown you."  
  
  
'Tousan shook his head, saying slowly: "This is not a decision to make, Takaguchi. My wife would never forgive me. Not after…"  
  
  
My eyes traveled back and forth between them. I had no idea what was going on. I didn't even know 'Tousan had a debt to pay. If 'Kaasan knew she'd have been distraught but she would have figured out a way to pay it off. What could be worth selling to make up for such a debt?  
  
  
A soft chuckle tickled the air. I turned to see the redhead with his lips barely touching Crawford's ear. "The boy doesn't know it's about him," he whispered.  
  
  
I was sure I heard my heart make contact with the ground.  
  
  
-He wouldn't… 'Tousan wouldn't…-  
  
  
Before I knew it, the redhead's arms were around me, holding me in place. He clamped a hand over my mouth as I begged for my freedom. "Don't worry little one," he said softly, pressing his face into my neck. His words were urgent and sincere. "Your father wouldn't willingly let you go."  
  
  
Suddenly his other hand was behind my thigh, sliding upward. I jumped and whimpered as he grabbed me.  
  
  
"Schuldich," Crawford growled, stepping closer. "What are you doing?"  
  
  
Schuldich cleared his throat. "Nothing. I was just testing him out for--"  
  
  
Crawford pushed Schuldich away from me, keeping hold of my arm. "If Takaguchi had seen that—"  
  
  
"Yeah, this pervert and his fresh virgins," Schuldich muttered. "If you ask me, I'd rather be shooting them. But you said we'd be done with him by now."  
  
  
"We will be," assured Crawford, thinning his eyes as he watched 'Tousan and Takaguchi bicker. "Soon."  
  
  
"It's always 'soon' with you. How soon?"  
  
  
"I'll give you three days," Takaguchi's steel voice cut through the air.  
  
  
'Tousan looked sick again. "I can't come up with that much money in—"  
  
  
Takaguchi put his hand up for silence. "Three days." His eyes slipped to me. "Then it depends on who my bodyguards find first." Waving to the gaijin, Takaguchi stalked away without saying goodbye.  
  
  
Farfarello and Schuldich sauntered after Takaguchi, but not before looking back to memorize my face. Crawford took a heavy breath and also turned slowly to leave. He let his hand glide down my sleeve, barely brushing his fingers against my palm as he stepped away from me.  
  
  
'Tousan rushed forward, gripping my shoulders and asking me if I was all right. At least, that's what I think he did. At the moment, I did not have much attention to pay him.  
  
  
"…Crawford?" I sounded the name out softly.  
  
  
He half-turned, facing me with his profile. Why had I called him? No reason. Now I had to think of something so I wouldn't look nearly as stupid as I felt.  
  
  
"Aa… Be careful."  
  
  
That had to be the ultimate lame, worse than my ad-libbed monologue.  
  
  
He had a gun and everything, too. He could have shot me for my idiocy. But that isn't what he did.  
  
  
He only blinked and nodded, then continued into the veil of night.  
  
  
[tbc]  
  
  
  
[1] Akachan = pet name for babies; "aka" means red and babies are red-faced? Or something to that effect.  
  
  
  
A/N: … Changed like.. a few words. Wow, I'm so anal now… X-x Please R & R? Pretty please? With cherry flavored pocky on top? I'd like to know if my effort was worth the time…  
  
  
  



	3. chapter two : no one

  
  
  
_.·-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-·._  
  
  
  
Thanks to: Joanna (=3), Jet (:D), Pink Bunny (:o]), Makoto Kudou (XD thanks for the pocky!), Fierysable (:P), TalonSage (=D), Rosethorn ([=), and Ami-chan (*_* evil fiend!) for reviewing the last chapter. :3 I was surprised and happy to read your kind words!  
  
A/N: at bottom  
  
Warnings/Disclaimer: see prologue  
  
-thoughts-  
  
  
  
**kira.kira**  
by Koyuki Aode  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
"Hana no no, no no hana, hana no na, na-a-ani… Ara! Nagi-kun." My young aunt's footfalls stopped at the door. The fibers of her character rustled and the floorboards creaked at the place where her weight settled.  
  
  
"Fuyu-chan…" I murmured. I looked up from my mirror, hoping the sensation in my face was a smile. "Nervous tonight? I'm sorry…"  
  
  
A quick, concentrated "nazunananohananamonai" slipped out in a whisper before she smiled comfortingly, the clean lines of her face settling in a serene expression. "It's only because you bested my lines before my cue…" she sang in her high, tinkling voice.  
  
  
I nodded silently, thinking that the verdant shimmers of her kimono were a comforting apparition of spring. "But-" one of her long sleeves reached for my forehead and brushed my hair away, "-Your regret stirs for another reason."  
  
  
Moisture seeped from the cloth in my hand. I'd watched from the wings as the night's play continued with no further excitement and four empty theater seats, one in particular looking as empty as I felt inside. Fate liked to toy with my imagination, conjuring situations of all types for my father, myself, and for Crawford.  
  
  
"No." In attempt to brush the matter aside, I looked back at the large mirror before me and began to wipe my face clean. Inside, I knew the tactic would not work. 'Kaasan's sister, ten years her junior, was a bright, eccentric 25-year-old who swore she had the power to read minds.  
  
  
I did not consider this at first, but the coincidences could be shocking.  
  
  
"It is not fair that you lie," my aunt said, her voice as soft as her palm against my nose. A candy-like vanilla scent wafted from the confines of her sleeve.  
  
  
I paused in my actions and considered telling her about 'Tousan's problem, which my mind was slowly working at as my own dilemma. Then her hand departed. When I looked up, my father was ushering Fuyu to the stage.  
  
  
Clouds gathered and filled his face and an intense gravity locked his gaze with mine, which made me more nervous than the businessman's strange expression.  
  
  
"Do not tell anyone," he reminded, "Not even your mother."  
  
  
My eyes leaped back to the mirror. "Is it that terrible?" I asked calmly, tapping at the lines of my left eye, "Don't you want her to help you?…"  
  
  
My father shook his head, surprising me for the first time in my kabuki life with a sense of doubt. He had not the strength to voice it, the only doubt he'd ever have toward his faithful partner. I love her too much, his eyes said, while his face twisted with worries behind me. "I'm sorry you became a part of this."  
  
  
He rubbed one of his knuckles along my clean cheek, and I stopped wiping my face.   
  
  
Again, moisture cascaded over my fingers. "…It was my fault, 'Tousan," a sudden eruption in my mind made my words tremble in the air like fresh butterflies. "I'm very sorry…" I added. I wanted to bury my face into the ground and hide from the world.  
  
  
Immediately the show of affection was erased from memory. 'Tousan's hands braced my shoulders and his voice grew bold. "Do not let the worry become you. I would not sell you," he said, frowning as if there was more he could not articulate. "You are worth more than any sum of yen…"  
  
  
"Saa…"   
  
  
I did not think to pry into the origins of the debt, because it would have been rude. All I was left to wonder was…   
  
  
"It would help, wouldn't it?" My voice sounded smaller than I felt under his sudden scowl.  
  
  
"Don't think about it anymore. Concentrate on tomorrow's play."  
  
  
"But… If I went with him… Half of your debt…"  
  
  
"I said—"  
  
  
"It's so easy, 'Tousan!" I lowered my eyes, cursing my quick mouth. ".. Why can't I help you?"  
  
  
'Tousan looked at me, a sudden tight knot of pity and sympathy seemed to have settled in him. "Nagi-kun… Takaguchi is a very lonely man…"  
  
  
"Then… he wouldn't hurt me, would he? It would just be like moving for me…" I was so confused, not knowing why me having another father would be such a terrible price to help my current 'Tousan. "All he wants is company," I said softly. "I know how that feels."  
  
  
He did not know what to say. The moment was a reflection of my own naivete.  
  
  
His kimono rustled as he walked through the door, his voice tight as his fists. "Study your lines."  
  
  
*  
  
  
My siblings were frigid without knowing the truth of that night.  
  
  
They had other reasons to hate me. Like the fact that their blood wasn't in my veins.  
  
  
When I was seven-years-old, Yuichi and Yuuko Fujihara found me sleeping outside a small rural theater in an alley I called Bed. They nearly dropped the box of stage decorations they were carrying to a moving truck, in the midst of a traveling tour, and asked where my parents were. I told them my parents were supposed to pick me up the night before and asked them what city I was in.  
  
  
With three children of their own, the couple was compelled not leave me that way.  
  
  
So I was lured into the world of theater, with the promise of food, shelter, and family. Two of these I was grateful for, but the last left me with bruises in places where no one would think to look.  
  
  
It seemed that my new older brothers were constantly angry with me, angry at an affection bestowed upon me with no effort on my part. Despite that I was ahead in my studies, I needed help applying makeup before a show, I could not choose my own costume, and I was slow in remembering actions – not even lines, but simple actions, which were key to 'Tousan's plays. Not to mention my stage fright. During free time, rather than rehearsing or dreaming up my own plays, I would read books and teach myself English. I was the runt who needed the most attention and discipline, and I received it constantly.  
  
  
In taking me in, the Fujiharas had given me their name and the honor of their legacy. Haruki and Natsumare felt I deserved neither.  
  
  
I did not blame them. It was my price to pay for accepting a new life.  
  
  
"What kind of moron are you?" said Haruki. His voice was low to avert attention, but still echoed like a ghost through the hall. "You almost destroyed everything. Why couldn't you remember a single line?"  
  
  
The first day of 'Tousan's deadline was nearly over, and my thoughts never strayed from that direction.  
  
  
I struggled to apologize through Natsumare's grip, thinking I would never hear his voice again as the fire in my chest ached to be released. My palms slid against the surface behind me, wishing for anything to grab that wasn't Haruki or Natsumare. If they felt that I would fight them, I had no chance at all.  
  
  
"Well?" Natsumare shook me.  
  
  
-Can't… breathe…-  
  
  
I felt my tears pool where Natsumare's hand met my throat. The wall was hard against my back, and the pain in my head from impact was numbed with the star-studded darkness descending on my mind.   
  
  
Haruki's baby-face features were set in an eerie calm as he leaned forward. I was staring at a clown's etched smile. "I think he's having trouble breathing." Watching his beautiful anger always made me sad.   
  
  
A thought stumbled around my head - pushing past the dancing speckles - that Crawford with his gun was less likely to take my life than these two.   
  
  
At the very moment, 'Kaasan's voice and footsteps echoed in the hallway. "Nagi-kun?"  
  
  
I was free again, coughing and gulping air as two hands rushed my descent to the floor. One of the hands jumped to my hair and pulled roughly. "Breathe without words," Haruki hissed.  
  
  
Just as 'Kaasan appeared, the hand relaxed and rubbed my hair down. Someone helped me into a sitting position.   
  
  
"Haru, Natsu…?" 'Kaasan implored, holding a bouquet of flowers.  
  
  
"I think Nagi's sick," said Natsumare softly, in a voice that could make me melt if I'd never known him. It made me wonder at the advantages of being a trained actor. "He's been like this for five minutes."  
  
  
'Kaasan frowned with sympathy as she reached down to feel my forehead as I scrubbed at my cheeks with my sleeve. "Dou…? What's happened?" she murmured.  
  
  
Haruki's grip lingered on my shoulder. I gulped, still holding my hand to my throat. There was an earthquake in my chest. "Last night... it was very cold…"  
  
  
"Yes, he might have what Shizuru has," Natsumare nodded.  
  
  
"Kawaisou… [1]" A small comforting smile crossed 'Kaasan's lips and she offered the bouquet to me. "These came for you, Nagi-kun. You have a fan."   
  
  
I glanced down and saw "nagi" written in katakana on the envelope.   
  
  
"Let your brothers help you to bed," my mother continued, "And get some rest, all right? We need you to perform those lines again." She rubbed my head, then Haruki and Natsumare's shoulders affectionately, and "Jaa!" left quickly to continue her duties as our group leader's wife.  
  
  
"Che," Haruki snorted, grabbing the flowers from me just as I pulled the card envelope from its plastic contraption. "Someone out there doesn't realize how stupid you are."  
  
  
I croaked with dismay. "Haruki, please—"  
  
  
"You don't deserve these." Natsumare took the flowers and slammed them into the floor before bringing his shoe down roughly over the blooms. "If you repeat last night," he continued fiercely, "That will be you." Then, feeling satisfied, he nodded to Haruki and they left me to clean up the mess.  
  
  
I waited to hear the door slam before crawling over to the thrashed petals, pink and yellow silk mangled in death. I'd never received flowers and thought they were still so beautiful.   
  
  
Examining the twisted stems with my fingers, I found something hidden within them. My heart leaped as I pulled the all too familiar object from the bouquet and flicked my wrist.   
  
  
As it opened on my command, I saw that it was indeed my fan from the troubling night. It clattered to the floor as I hurriedly pulled the card out.  
  
  
My hands shook with a knowledge lost to my mind.  
  
  
-I thought you might need this.-  
  
  
There was no name, but I felt I knew to whom the clean handwriting belonged.  
  
  
  
[tbc]  
  
  
[1] kawaisou = "that's terrible"  
  
  
A/N: Well I'm in college now, so it'll be difficult for me to pull all-nighters as I tire easily between classes, homework, and work. X_X But I'll do my best. ^_^ As for the lemon/lime issue.. well… . don't tempt my muses. Gah, I promised a certain FS and YoYotan that this fic would only be four parts and that I'd continue PYG. But we know that's not really gonna happen. XDDDD *dodges attacks* I WAS JUST KIDDING!.. *runs away* FOO! ;_;  



	4. chapter three : the blue stare

  
_.·-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-·._  
  
  
  
Thanks to: Pink Bunny, Akeru, Makoto Kudou (^^ thanks for the shield), Fierysable, Laila, Tears of Cyanide, Picaro, and TalonSage (heh, sorry 'bout the mix-up) for reviewing the last chapter. :3 I muchly appreciate it…  
  
A/N: at bottom  
  
Warnings/Disclaimer: see prologue  
  
-thoughts-  
  
  
  
**kira.kira**  
by Koyuki Aode  
  
  
  
Chapter 3  
  
  
  
Due to my growing popularity, 'Tousan had locked me in.   
  
  
I found this out when the kind, amicable security guard Masaru Chiyama would not let me past the door without an escort. "Little Nagi," said Masaru in his distant, monotonous tone when I protested, "Your father wants to keep you safe."  
  
  
I pressed my lips together before frankly asking; "Do you know why he wants to keep me safe?"  
  
  
"Because the world is dangerous," he answered simply, sounding like a Buddhist monk with an ultimate truth to share.  
  
  
I did not care about that danger. All right, perhaps I did. Just a little. Maybe the urge to see Crawford again was the call of danger in a mundane yet ever-changing life.  
  
  
I knew it was more than that. As I counted down 'Tousan's three days, I noticed Crawford had been to all three of the live shows we'd put on so far (we played twice each day), and I wanted to know why. The why of many things were termites in my head.  
  
  
"Thank you, Masaru," I mumbled.  
  
  
I looked around the large room for a diversion. Causing one would not be difficult, but doing so without attention and without so much damage would entail strategy. With the show at its end, Crawford would be on his way home.  
  
  
I hopped on my feet with anxiety, offering a broad smile to Masaru's unsure gaze.  
  
  
If anything, I hoped, any of these structures would just happen to—  
  
  
**Crash!**  
  
  
For an instant, I thought it was my imagination teasing me. The shelf I'd been staring at had toppled and Masaru rushed off, spouting words unfit for a monk.  
  
  
The props were really sprawled about the floor, and I tasted fresh air.  
  
  
I shielded my eyes from the white August morning, occasionally ducking my head beneath my spread fan as departing audience members voiced their praise. My search among them was directed towards any polished radiance in the usual neutral and gray sea of elderly Japanese. I wandered far into this ocean, until the crowd was sparse and I barely recognized where I was.  
  
  
While turning around in circles, trying to remember my way, I saw him. He was gripping a metal fence, watching children cavort in a playground.  
  
  
I closed my fan as I stepped up behind him, despite that my paleness was growing slick on my skin. He stepped back to meet my position, still facing the children.  
  
  
"They could hurt themselves doing that," he said suddenly.  
  
  
"…It's just a game."  
  
  
He looked at me. "Rarely should games involve both pain and children."  
  
  
The fan paper crinkled beneath my fingers as I gathered the courage to stare into his eyes. "Why?"  
  
  
"It was not mine to keep," he acknowledged with a nod.  
  
  
"No. I meant-" I held up the fan, "-Why did you steal my fan and send it back to me in a bouquet of flowers?"  
  
  
He turned and began to walk, reaching into his pocket for car keys. "Did you get them in time?"  
  
  
"… Around.. 1 o'clock… ?" I started after him. "Was that important?.." He walked faster. "Matte!" I pulled my costume up and did my best to force my weight in his direction.  
  
  
"Your family is looking for you now," he grunted out, pulling his path into the road.  
  
  
I stumbled after him. "Wait!!—" A car swerved to avoid hitting me.  
  
  
Within the next moment, he grabbed my wrist and flew with me across the street, just out of oncoming harm's way. "Are you stupid?!" he asked roughly, looming over me as the sunlight strained to reach over his shoulders, "Go back to your home."  
  
  
I cringed against the pain, feeling shame as familiar tears spilled from my eyes. "I have to know."  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
"…. If you're going to kill him."  
  
  
He let me go and stepped toward one of the cars sitting patiently at the curb.  
  
  
"Are you?"  
  
  
"I can't say."  
  
  
"Why not?!"  
  
  
Suddenly, he stopped. His hand shot out at me, and I flinched before realizing he did not intend pain. The heat of his palm warmed my cheek, but I did not feel his touch. "Pain doesn't become the face I saw on stage," he said gravely. He brushed away a teardrop with his thumb.  
  
  
I sniffed, wondering how terrible my face must have looked. "...It's just makeup."  
  
  
His eyes lightened and he returned his attention to his car keys. "What was your line?" he asked carelessly, as if to make light conversation. "The one you were supposed to say?"  
  
  
I faltered. "You knew? You could tell?…" My heart froze. I'd left my job undone. The illusion of kabuki had become an old, stale candle.  
  
  
"It wasn't completely obvious," he shook his head. The chase now, was reversed. I let the sidewalk grow between us, but he continued to advance. "Was that your first time in the spotlight? The way you carried yourself then reflected an emotion within you that was different from a normal performance."  
  
  
"Boku wa…."  
  
  
"What you said were not lines, and your actions were not the mannerisms of a fictional character."  
  
  
The ground softened suddenly. We were in the grass of a park. "I..."  
  
  
"And your eyes, they reflected a conviction I've never seen before."  
  
  
"… It's just a character. Only makeup…"  
  
  
"I don't look at makeup."  
  
  
[tbc]  
  
  
  
A/N: Ok, this was supposed to be attached to chapter two.. but um.. I forgot. X_x; And I meant to correct that yesterday, but I forgot… again (college is one huge distraction!) and ended up only uploading the revised chapter 2. ^_^;;; So um. Yeah. This would be more fitting as chapter 2.75 or something cuz its so small. Gah, I need to stop coddling this fic…   



	5. chapter four : ring

  
  
  
_.·-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-·._  
  
  
  
Thanks to: Lucifer, Makoto Kudou, and Exileian for reviewing the last (mini) chapter. ^^;; Any bit of encouragement seems to help my muse as of late…  
  
A/N: At this point in the fic, Naoe is Nagi's character in the kabuki play. More notes at bottom.  
  
Warnings/Disclaimer: see prologue  
  
-thoughts-  
  
  
  
**kira.kira**  
by Koyuki Aode  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
  
  
The scent of maple leaves was stagnant in my lungs. Time held me captive in the moment with Crawford, binding me with my own insecurity.  
  
  
"How old are you?" Crawford asked calmly, testing the patch of grass between us with the toe of his shoe. His eyes flickered between my face and the crushed blades. Now I was transparent; Crawford could see through Naoe and watch my true face. I wondered at what he saw.  
  
  
The wind's invisible hand plucked at a twisted, dry leaf on a branch above us. When finally I released a small puff of air, the leaf crashed at the hem of my costume. "Fujihara Nagi desu," I said softly.  
  
  
"What?" he asked, frowning in confusion.  
  
  
I raised my tone. "If I am to tell you my age," I explained steadily, "I want to know who you are. I want to know what to call you, other than Crawford."  
  
  
He blinked quickly as if to absorb my words, then opened his mouth to speak. "Crawford Bradley... Brad. You may continue to call me Crawford." His glasses flashed and a pleasurable chill tickled my skin.  
  
  
"Doozo yoroshiku." [1] I nodded and gave a satisfied smile.  
  
  
"Doozo yoroshiku." He nodded. "I am twenty-five," he added for incentive.  
  
  
"I am fourteen," I said finally.  
  
  
"Fourteen?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
  
One side of my mouth twisted upward. "Almost."  
  
  
"Almost?"  
  
  
"... In two months," I sheepishly admitted, tapping my fan against my thigh and watching the graceful shadows of the trees.  
  
  
He gave a soft "Hm," a chuckle and confirmation. "And you concern yourself with your father's affairs?"  
  
  
"My father's life," I corrected, still refusing to look at him.  
  
  
"What makes you think I will kill him?"  
  
  
"You have that weapon, and you work for that businessman. And my father has no chance of gathering the money he needs. He refuses to get help."  
  
  
"No one else in your family knows?"  
  
  
"He will not tell them," I said mournfully. In the midst of feeling sorry, a realization hit me. "... Why does any of this matter to you?"  
  
  
"We are both actors," said Crawford, "I may work for Takaguchi, but his thoughts aren't mine. I act independently, no matter the situation." He paused and worked to catch my gaze again. When he succeeded, he added, "I apologize for calling you stupid earlier." I blinked confusedly at this, but he nodded. "You are intelligent for your age, and I admire your conviction."  
  
  
If we had not been alone, I would have been convinced that these comments did not address me.  
  
  
Before I could react, his fingers grazed my ear, tucking some of my wayward hair back. Several leaves fell between us.  
  
  
The scene reminded me suddenly of several plays; a romance blossoming between two clumsy lovers (without the wistful music of course, and in the wrong season). I blushed at the thought and raised my sleeve to my mouth to stifle a smile. My gaze fell to the grass as I pondered how shocking the entire situation was, how silly I was acting in the face of such power.  
  
  
"Is this what you're really like," Crawford wondered aloud, "Or are you playing someone else?"  
  
  
"You claim to have an eye for such things," I murmured into my sleeve.  
  
  
What happened next was the most frightening and wonderful experience of my life.  
  
  
Crawford's cologne overpowered me, and I felt my back pushed into a tree trunk as his palms slipped over my wrists. Without warning, I found his nose bumping into mine. There was the slightest contact between our lips.  
  
  
Our eyes met through his glasses. They were a captivating, cloudless navy blue, as inviting to my attention as the evening sky. And they seemed to say, where I saw a twinkle: I want you to be mine.  
  
  
All at once, I was breathless and wildly drinking air. And I enjoyed it. I held to him as if I'd fallen and he'd caught me again; what lingered in my fingers was a fear of his departure. My senses wanted to continue smelling him, knowing him and feeling him.  
  
  
But my mind became active again, and my body sprang into delayed reaction.  
  
  
The tree shook with a sudden gust as I pulled away, provoking a rain of leaves that would veil my escape. His fingers reached for me through the thick, fragile wall between us, but I ran as quickly as I could, lifting my costume and skittering away in the most unladylike manner I could muster.  
  
  
But you are not a lady, Common Sense whispered to me. And he is much older.  
  
  
-You cannot belong to him.-  
  
  
The road suddenly became blurry, and my legs lost all will to move. My ribs ached as I gasped against my obi [2]. I let my costume fall back into place and stretched out the burning muscles of my hand. Instinctively, I searched my sleeves for a handkerchief hidden somewhere, in hopes of cleaning my stained face before I reached home.  
  
  
I did not find it. Instead, two angry sets of footsteps rushed up to me. "What the hell are you doing?" Haruki asked me, grabbing my wrist and half-dragging me in some direction.  
  
  
I was so distraught that I found I had trouble stopping my tears. "I... I got lost..." was the best I could say.  
  
  
"You idiot!" Haruki yelled. He raised his arm and brought his palm against my cheek with such a force that I next found myself facing the ground. The sound belatedly reached my ears, and I stayed there, supporting my weight on my palms and knees, watching the ground erupt with stains.  
  
  
"Haru," Natsumare warned, "Not so hard. 'Tousan will know..."  
  
  
"Who cares?" Haruki muttered, looming over me. "Do you have any idea how much effort 'Tousan has put into finding you?"  
  
  
"I'm s-sorry..."  
  
  
"I'm so sick of hearing that!" I watched the ground with anticipation as Haruki's shadow reached for my hair.  
  
  
A larger shadow appeared and blocked him. I looked up to see the pale suit wedged between us. "Is that any way to treat your brother?" said Crawford coolly.  
  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Natsumare challenged, his tone set with an equal calm.  
  
  
"A member of the audience." Crawford thrust my fan at me behind his back. I took it quietly and lost it in the folds of my lap. "I imagine it must take quite a bit of acting on your parts to exude such grace on stage. I commend both of you for your efforts."  
  
  
"You must not have an eye for kabuki." Natsumare's hands clenched into fists and he took one step forward. His eyes slipped down to me. I cowered behind Crawford. "I wonder if you were watching something else."  
  
  
"O-hana," [2] Haruki muttered, remembering the bouquet from the previous day and looking slightly amused. "The flower sender." Crawford nodded.  
  
  
In this instant, an idea sparked in my mind. I remembered Crawford's question about the flowers having arrived "in time," and wondered if there was any connection to him saving me now. Was it possible that he knew what would happen?  
  
  
My chance to pursue the theory disappeared as 'Tousan yelled at my brothers from afar to return home. They hesitated as they complied, threatening me with their eyes in their departure.  
  
  
Crawford turned and helped me to my feet, catching my fan before it fell to the ground. "This is typical then?" he whispered. I turned my face away as his fingers ghosted along my bruised cheek.  
  
  
"No... Please... Do not worry about--"  
  
  
"You need to tell your father," he said urgently, gripping my sleeve. "They almost--"  
  
  
I let out a gasp of surprise as my father's arm hooked around my waist and pulled me back. "Stay away from him!" My mouth opened to protest, but I had nothing to say that sounded logical. 'Tousan's face, his real face, peered at mine. "Are you all right?"  
  
  
"I'm fine," I said shakily.  
  
  
"You do not look fine," he said with growing anger. He turned to Crawford. "Why must you harass him? I have two days left!"  
  
  
"'Tousan," I whined, tugging convincingly on his sweatshirt, "Can we please go home?"  
  
  
My father kept his body as a barrier between us. "Why did you come here?" he challenged Crawford. "I've seen you in the audience. Why do you keep coming back?"  
  
  
Crawford simply nodded, hefting his keys in his right hand. "Call it a whim," was his vague reply. From the way his face froze, I knew he was sharing a dangerous moment with my father.  
  
  
They looked away from each other as the wind shifted, and Crawford turned on his heel. "Jaa," he gave a small wave. "I'll see you again." He disappeared into the street.  
  
  
'Tousan stepped into my view. "Nagi-kun," he said carefully, "Why do look at him that way?"  
  
  
"Wh-What do you mean?" I feigned confusion. I was unsure myself of what I felt when Crawford was with me. My father's expression made my doubts stronger, but I knew I could not deny the embodiment of my heart's dreams. I looked away.  
  
"What did he do to you?" Somehow he knew. He knew something. I shook my head.  
  
"...Nothing happened, 'Tousan."  
  
His hand came upon my neck, gently pushing my chin up. "Your face betrays you."  
  
My lips played with soundless words until I managed to whisper: "... He didn't hurt me..."  
  
'Tousan's eyes went cold. "He is gaijin," he said with a growing bitterness, "And he is employed by Takaguchi. He does not respect you. Do you understand?"  
  
"I understand," I murmured.  
  
He sighed as he led me back to the theater. "I wish your brothers would watch you more closely."  
  
I could not find the courage to say just how often they did.  
  
[tbc]  
  
  
  
[1] "douzo yoroshiku" = the equivalent of "how do you do" or "pleased to meet you"  
  
[2] hana = flower(s); in this case, Haruki's mocking Crawford by adding the honorary prefix "o," as in "the all-important flowers" (o.O though it could be "go"... I dun remember quite well and my brain's fuzzy...)  
  
  
A/N: Ugh I hate being sick. What's worse is my roommate got me sick, and I'm more sick than she ever was.... On the bright side, this fic is seriously eating me alive (moreso than the germs). And I don't think the Plato/Greek homosexuality we're covering in Lit class is helping me get away from the C+N muse. . Plato's good love material, just... not conducive to studying. ^-^;  
I didn't really pick an age for Nagi until this chapter, so... yeah. X3 Sorry of this was all just bad stinky cheese to you. I kinda liked it. XP Oh, and I don't think the warnings will be changing for this fic anytime soon. (I'll say the word "sequel" and we can pretend we didn't hear it. X3) Bah, I've got the next chapter of PYG *sooooo close* to being finished, but k.k is a spoiled brat.... XP Oh well.  
  



	6. chapter five : the jump off

  
  
  
_.·-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-·._  
  
  
  
Thanks to: Exileian, Lady-Lucifiel, Makoto Kudou, Picaro, Pyrochan, Ami-chan, and Strawberryfansz for reviewing the last chapter. X3 Ami-chan for being my evil fiend. :) And FS for being FS. ;P  
  
A/N: at bottom  
  
Warnings/Disclaimer: see prologue  
  
-thoughts-  
  
  
  
**kira.kira**  
by Koyuki Aode  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
  
  
It was after the second rehearsal of the third day that I received Crawford's affection once more. 'Kaasan brought the bouquet to me proudly when I was alone backstage.   
  
  
The blossoms that time reminded me of full, round plums in season, dressed with small white clouds. I memorized the texture of the buds with my fingers as I closed my eyes, dreaming of plum wine ice cream and white Mikawaya mochi I had tasted in another life. These were constellations of a sky I would never again see with my eyes.  
  
  
"Did he send you those flowers?"   
  
  
'Tousan's sudden presence behind me weighed me to solid ground. I had anticipated that my brothers would ambush me, but 'Tousan's stern tone collided with those expectations. "Ah… I…"  
  
  
"Do you still think about him?!"  
  
  
Tissue paper crinkled beneath my fingers, the flowers beneath beginning to choke, and I forced myself to relax as I turned to face him. "This is only the second bouquet. It means nothing, really—"  
  
  
"Don't be foolish!" 'Tousan's face slipped suddenly with anger, like a mask cracked in two, and he raised his hand.  
  
  
The sting of my cheek registered only when I acknowledged that I was now facing the wall.  
"'Tousan…" I held my hand to my face, thinking that Haru had struck the same place just a day before. "…Gomen…"  
  
  
'Tousan and 'Kaasan, and even Aunt Fuyu, had been so kind to me despite the pain I experienced at the hands of my brothers. Now I did not know what to think.   
  
  
My loyalty to the Fujihara family suffered greatly at that moment, an irreconcilable turn in my life.  
  
  
"Nagi… I…" He looked disappointed, perhaps in himself. Nervously he picked the bouquet up off the floor and shoved it back into my hands. "I may have a solution to our problem," he said without looking into my eyes.  
  
  
"… Really?..."  
  
  
"Please go back to my office and stay there until I return."  
  
  
"Why?—"  
  
  
"Just please wait there. I've left tea for you if you are thirsty. I won't be long."  
  
  
*  
  
  
As soon as I poured myself a cup of tea, 'Tousan's telephone rang. Not knowing what else to do, I answered.  
  
  
"'Moshi moshi?" [1] I whispered as strongly as I could. I cleared my throat. "This is Fujihara Yuich--"  
  
  
"Nagi." The syllables, like dice, tumbled through me, giving birth to a butterfly in my chest. It fought to be released, fluttering straight into my throat. "Nagi, this is Crawford," the voice over the line said curtly. "Are you all right?"  
  
  
The phone was a brick in my hand. "H-How...?"  
  
  
"You sound terrible."  
  
  
"How do you..." I couldn't finish my thoughts. My voice melted with my resolve. I felt very small and pathetic as I hugged my knees and sobbed into the receiver. He sounded uncomfortable as he tried to placate me, offering poetic murmuring until he was only left with apologies. "I hate this, and I'm so scared… What if it doesn't work…"  
  
  
"It will be all right. Just relax a bit," Crawford said stiffly, when I had been reduced to sniffles. It seemed the static of the line blurred his shining image.  
  
  
I sipped the tea and took a deep breath. "It's fine of you to say these things when you hardly sound like you mean them."  
  
  
"I try," he replied dryly.  
  
  
"Haven't you taken care of someone before?"  
  
  
He seemed to hesitate before replying. "There's only been myself."  
  
  
"What about those other men? The men who work with you."  
  
  
"I don't take care of them. I work with them."  
  
  
"So you live alone? No pets or plants?"  
  
  
"I live with the others."  
  
  
"They don't mean more to you?"  
  
  
"… No."  
  
  
"How lonely," I was tempted to say. But I held the thought back, my lips acting on another question. "Will you come to tonight's play?"  
  
  
"That wouldn't be my reason for coming."   
  
  
No, I remembered, it wouldn't. This was 'Tousan's last chance. A small question rose between my eyes, and I looked around at his belongings, wondering where he was.   
  
  
"I believe Takaguchi suspects something. He's acting strangely and refuses my requests to travel with him tonight."  
  
  
The room seemed to shake, though I felt nothing. I lay in the chair haphazardly now, vaguely aware of my limbs. "Mm," I murmured without realizing it. A warm calm had washed over me. "I have your flowers here. My brothers didn't notice them, even though 'Tousan did. Now I'm trapped in this boring room."  
  
  
"Your father's merely trying to protect you."  
  
  
"I do not want this life anymore."  
  
  
"Don't speak like that unless you mean it."   
  
  
I closed my eyes and rubbed my wrist over them. "Say more things," I whispered, "Your voice makes me warm."  
  
  
"It's important that you watch yourself tonight," he insisted.  
  
  
"Mm hm..." His voice sounded so far away, I thought he was speaking from the sky, warming me with his brother the Sun.  
  
  
"Nagi?"   
  
  
The world was eclipsed then, and sleep took hold of me and would not let me go, even when the phone and the cup fell to the floor.  
  
  
*  
  
  
The world was still shaking when I opened my eyes again. It was a less violent movement, and bright lights would flash briefly before whizzing away in a horizontal meteor shower. The fog in my eyes cleared a little after a few slow blinks.  
  
  
My mouth and throat were dry, and I gasped at how cold the air was to my skin. Beneath me was softness. I pushed against it and forced myself to sit up, though my limbs were all still numb.  
  
  
"Un?" My mind questioned what my eyes told it. Then my forehead fell against the car window with a soft thump, and I closed my eyes again, dizzied at the sight of the world passing by.  
  
  
"Are you all right, Nagi-kun?" Masaru asked from the driver's seat.  
  
  
Still leaning against the window, I opened my eyes to another fog, caused by the quick breaths pushing past my lips. My skin complained about my lingering makeup, and my costume's obi had introduced a subtle ache in my ribs. "What... happened?..." I managed to gasp out.  
  
  
"Your father came to me a few minutes ago and said you weren't feeling well. I'm taking you to a doctor."  
  
  
I absorbed the information slowly, my head shooting up at a sudden thought. 'Tousan… The tea. "No!" The streetlights continued flashing with urgency.  
  
  
"What's wrong?" Masaru said calmly.  
  
  
"Stop the car," I said suddenly.  
  
  
Masaru shook his head, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. "Your welfare is in my hands, I must get you to the doctor."  
  
  
"Stop the car," my heart began to tremble in my chest, watching helplessly as the road continued to move, "Stop the car now."  
  
  
"I'm sorry, I cannot do it."  
  
  
"Please!" I gasped, wishing the road would freeze. "Please stop the car!" Then I was suddenly thrown from the seat, closing my eyes before I hit a soft cushion. Brakes screeched and horns blared around us.  
  
  
More of those funny, un-monklike words sprang from Masaru's mouth. "Nagi?! Daijoubu ka?!"  
  
  
I wasted no time answering as I pushed the door open and tumbled into the street. Immediately I recognized that we were not far, and I began to run - despite my costume's restrictions - back to the theater. Masaru's voice called to me, but I ignored it, reaching into my right sleeve for Crawford's card. I had not yet opened it.  
  
  
I tore the envelope with my teeth as I ran, and fumbled with the small stiff paper until I was at the edge of the theater parking lot. Feeling safer, I walked briskly through the lights, reading the first lines in Crawford's handwriting.  
  
  
-Be careful.-  
  
  
Suddenly, circumstance got the better of me, and I tumbled forward, letting out a sharp cry as my palms hit the ground. My strength had left me, and all I could do was stare up at the rows of parked cars. "'Tousan, please be all right..."  
  
  
My chest clenched as I read Crawford's last line, and a tall shadow eclipsed the light. Two hands gripped my waist, quickly pulling me to my feet.  
  
  
-He will come for you.-  
  
  
"Hello. Are you all right?" Takaguchi asked, looking very worried as he bent his head to my level. "You're shaking terribly."  
  
  
He would not release me, even as I tried to pull away, prying numbly at his hands. It felt different from the times Crawford had done the same. "I--Please--"   
  
  
"Sh..." He pulled me closer, rubbing his cheek against mine so that I could feel his breath against my neck. "It's all right now," he whispered, stroking my back, "Your father said that you were gone, and I was worried. But now that I've found you, your 'Tousan will be all right."  
  
  
"Takaguch—"  
  
  
"Hm, your voice is delightful," he whispered, tracing his fingers over my lips. I felt his smile against my skin. "I would be lonely if you hadn't returned."  
  
  
His words made my adrenaline surge; in the moment he relaxed, I tore away from him. "'NO!!" Takaguchi caught me easily, wrapping one arm around my waist and lifting me up so that my feet did not reach the ground. "Let me—Mfph!" I struggled with all my might against Takaguchi as he toted me toward a waiting limousine.  
  
  
Then I heard something that normally made my blood run cold. Haruki's voice.  
  
  
"Y-You…"  
  
  
As hope leaked out of me, I watched my ever-abusive sibling undergo a change I had never before had the luxury of witnessing.  
  
  
He became afraid.  
  
  
Takaguchi dropped me; but before I could leap away, another hand grabbed my hair. "Don't run away just yet…" The familiar nasal voice oozed into my ear. I gasped as Crawford's redhead companion jabbed something hard and cold into my ribs. "He would just hate it if I shot you."  
  
  
Somehow, I knew he did not mean Takaguchi.  
  
  
"Haruki …"  
  
  
"Don't touch me!!"  
  
  
Haruki by now was caught in Takaguchi's grip, trembling as Takaguchi reached to touch his hair. My brother's lips moved slightly, in the shape of words, but no sound escaped. In that moment of Takaguchi's hushed whispers and his examination of Haruki's bleached locks, I realized why the secret was to be only mine with my 'Tousan's.   
  
  
Haruki had a secret of his own.  
  
  
"Takaguchi!" Natsumare suddenly appeared, looking tired and disheveled from the day's work. In seconds, he pushed the businessman away from Haruki, fluidly wedging himself between their small distance. "... Stay away from my brother…" his voice teetered on his usual calm, and his eyes burst with the angry energy of a nova.  
  
  
Takaguchi straightened his suit, stepping backwards to regain his ground. "Why, Natsumare-kun, I would. But there are so many brothers to choose from." He smirked as Natsumare clenched his fists. "… Choose one."  
  
  
Natsumare's skin ran pale, and he quickly glanced at me. I felt an instant of sympathy, of sorrow, of something that had existed that I was not aware of.  
  
  
-You will never know...-  
  
  
"Do you-" the Fujihara heir closed his eyes for a moment, "-Do you **swear** to leave us alone after this?"  
  
  
Takaguchi said yes.  
  
  
"Good riddance," Natsumare whispered, turning to comfort Haruki. Then the Fujiharas were gone from my life, like shooting stars that left such deep impressions in my soul.  
  
  
After Takaguchi pulled me with him into the back of his limousine, he sat next to me and stroked my hair. "Say good-bye to this place," he murmured gravely.  
  
  
I only sobbed into his shoulder as he pulled me into his lap.  
  
  
[tbc]  
  
  
  
[1] "moshi moshi" = "hello" on the telephone  
  
  
A/N: Heh. Well THAT took a while. No, actually I've had this part done for a while, since way back when the fic was still eating me alive, but I kept on changing it and forgetting to read it over and post it. And I also sort of pulled out of my old college. Sort of. Had some problems, and stuff. Nothing you all'd be interested in. Anyway, I just finally decided to post it (and a certain Sable threatened to hurt me in so many subtle ways XP). There's one more part left to this. And I may write a sequel, I may not. I've got a plan for what happens to Nagi at Rosenkreuz but… que-ever, it's not really up to me. X_X I can't believe it's almost over. I can't believe I'm so mean to Nagi!... I can't believe this fic will be done before I finish the next part of PYG. ....  



	7. chapter six : whisper

  
  
  
_.·-*| kira kira : a Japanese onomatopoeia used to describe the twinkling of the stars |*-·._  
  
  
  
Thanks to: Nagibook, Seshira, Dragonfire, Mizu ni Johin, Exileian, and Yukie for reviewing the last chapter. =3 And EVERYONE who has reviewed any chapter of this fic. Prolly wouldn't have gotten this far without y'all! And Sess for helpin' me out. And Ami-chan for being THE evil fiend. 3  
  
A/N: at bottom  
  
Warnings/Disclaimer: see prologue  
  
-thoughts-  
  
  
  
**kira.kira**  
by Koyuki Aode  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
The flow of the sky's tears rivaled my own.   
  
  
The morning was so dreary that I feared my emotions had become linked with the clouds. My fingers would grow numb before even touching the window, my heart thirsting to be senseless.  
  
  
Takaguchi's bed had warmth enough to keep me comfortably chained to my place beneath his covers. Between my spasms of tragedy and dread, I wished to drown in the white, cloud-like material, all of it too big and welcoming to be true.  
  
  
Aromas wafted from the kitchen, the breakfast meant for me. Inside, I hungered, but I had no interest in eating. I had forgotten how to live without a family to guide me. And there was no will.  
  
  
I would never again inhale the steam 'Tousan's good luck soup.  
  
  
Then it happened again, the clenching of my chest - as empty as the void of space, with the weight of the planets combined.  
  
  
When the tightness passed, I buried my face into the pillow again, not at all comforted by Takaguchi's scent. Weather's hum mixed with the sounds of Takaguchi's shower to sing a subtle lullaby to my woes.   
  
  
I hated my experiences with the Fujiharas….   
  
  
But it seemed that I had fallen in love with them while I wasn't looking.  
  
  
Just as sleep settled before me to promise me escape, a terrible pounding rattled through the walls.  
  
  
"**Takaguchi**!!"  
  
  
I sat up quickly, thinking Tousan had come to rescue me.  
  
  
"**Takaguchi**!!"  
  
  
My feet hit the floor just as I realized it was not Tousan. It was—  
  
  
"**Taka**- …Oh--"  
  
  
"--Crawford?"  
  
  
He still wore the same suit and tie.  
  
  
My hopes dissipated in the face of Crawford's bewildered eyes. He blinked and squinted through his glasses before employing his light gasp to speak; "… Nagi?"  
  
  
"Un…" I was just as confused as he, until I realized – from his stunned gaze – that he had never seen me outside of my costume. "This is my real face," I apologized, looking down at my clothes. The shorts and shirt I wore were large, but I could not deny that the outfit was more comfortable than a kimono.  
  
  
Crawford did not care. The door smashed against the wall as he pushed through and seized my wrists. "Are you all right?!" he asked demandingly, nearly violent.  
  
  
I shook with surprise, wondering: "Wh-What do you mean?!"  
  
  
His grip relaxed, and his tone shifted to silk. "What did he do to you?" he asked, gently urging me forward. Carefully, he stroked his fingers through my hair, lowering his head as if to count to know that each strand had survived the night. "Did he do anything?" His whisper tickled my ear.  
  
  
"No…" I replied. A warmth had splashed onto my cheeks, spreading over my face. "He brought me here, and helped me clean up, then we slept."  
  
  
Crawford pulled back, several strands of hair falling over his eyes as he cocked his head. "…You slept?"  
  
  
"In his bed-" I shrugged "-He said that his couch is uncomfortable."  
  
  
"And nothing happened…?" He pressed his index finger against his glasses, righting his head's position.  
  
  
I blinked. "We… slept."  
  
  
Crawford shook his head, dismissing the topic. "We should leave now."  
  
  
"Leave?" I repeated. He nodded. "Where would you take me?"  
  
  
"Yes-" Takaguchi's voice broke in, "-Where would you take him?"  
  
  
"… Takaguchi," Crawford said stiffly.  
  
  
"I cannot imagine-" Takaguchi stepped forward, fully clothed and his hair still dripping, "-Where little Nagi would have to go, now that his family does not want him." His cold hand touched my shoulder. "And now that the boy has helped his father pay the debt he incurred in buying the theater, he wouldn't dream of leaving…" Takaguchi's fingers tickled my chin, pulling my face close to his own. "He likes it here."  
  
  
I whimpered, cursing emotions for making me so attached to every little thing in my world and so utterly vulnerable to the contraction of memories. I could only hope the tears wouldn't fall.  
  
  
Crawford cleared his throat. His suit made a scratching noise as he put his hands behind his back. "I believe I advised against taking the boy against his will."   
  
  
"And I believe that I no longer employ you." Takaguchi's hand on my neck made me shiver. I could not look Crawford in the eye, despite how Takaguchi's touch made me yearn for Crawford's fingers on my skin. I would have been miserable with or without him. "But I have to wonder," Takaguchi continued, "What you are doing here now."  
  
  
"Mister Takaguchi, I think you should note that I'm warning you…"  
  
  
"As am I. Now, please. Leave."  
  
  
They stared at each other for what seemed a minute anchored in time. I moved my eyes back and forth between them.  
  
  
There was a dark clarity in Crawford's gaze. It seemed a world away, the vacuum that sparked my curiosity. It made me want to say something, but when I finally took the effort to open my mouth, my voice had already been pulled away.  
  
  
Crawford slammed the door after glancing at me one more time.  
  
  
My heart plunged at the sound, burning through me and leaving a crater beneath me. I choked on the fallout as I fell, and landed – to my surprise - on the softness of Takaguchi's mattress.  
  
  
"What's wrong?" Takaguchi said softly beside me. I barely felt the chills as the mattress sank beneath his weight. "I'm sorry. Does he bother you?"  
  
  
I wanted to be home again. I wanted to have a home again. I wanted to be in a place I knew, where I was not the center of attention, but a part of the background.  
  
  
And I still wanted to see Crawford.  
  
  
"…Home." I had whimpered it so weakly that Takaguchi asked me to speak louder, putting his face close to mine.  
  
  
The tears burst from my eyes before I could turn away. Like a shower, they splashed against my skin.  
  
  
"Shh..." Takaguchi whispered tenderly and stroked my back. It was very comforting for someone to be so gentle with me. But I felt that something was wrong. "Did you know?" he wiped a tear from my cheek, "You are so beautiful when you cry."  
  
  
-Too close-  
  
  
My heart jumped. Takaguchi's whispers against my ear had melted away to soft kisses along my neck. His fingers left cool trails along my thighs. "T-Taka..." I panicked as he continued. "Takagu-Mm!--"  
  
  
Suddenly my head was against the sheets. I winced against Takaguchi's lips, which pressed roughly against mine. The weight of the worlds had become very physical, and when I tried to move, I found that his grip around my wrists grew tighter and more painful.  
  
  
Finally, he pulled his face away, pausing to gaze at me.   
  
  
"Takaguchi-san, what are you--"  
  
  
It was as if an eclipse has suddenly ended as I looked into his eyes. The softness I'd experienced before was gone. His true intentions seemed to drive at my soul.  
  
  
-No!-  
  
  
"No, please!" My struggles amounted to nothing in the fight. I whimpered as his lips and tongue moved across my abdomen. Then his hand slipped into the shorts. "NO! CRAWF--"  
  
  
My hands, now free, pried at the fingers clamped around my throat. "T--" I couldn't even speak. I used one hand to pull at his shirt, to get his attention, to make him stop what he was doing to my body.  
  
  
It was as fruitless as jumping at the moon.  
  
  
-Please… Please stop...-  
  
  
"I was under the impression-" Takaguchi muttered, his fingers burning – like acid - memories into me "-That you be quieter than your brother."  
  
  
-No.-  
  
  
"I guess it runs in the family."  
  
  
-I won't let you...-  
  
  
I barely felt it as he touched me.  
  
  
-This is my life.-  
  
  
I didn't feel like begging anymore.  
  
  
-GET OFF!-  
  
  
It came as a surprise to both of us as Takaguchi was launched from the mattress.  
  
  
Even the rain on the window slowed in descent. The wind howled a warning as I stared up at the ceiling.  
  
  
A few minutes passed before I rolled over and crawled over the rumpled set of sheets to peer over the edge of the mattress. Takaguchi's hand jumped onto the mattress, knocking his tie to the floor.  
  
  
Idiot! Common Sense screamed in my ear, What are you waiting for?!  
  
  
Without another thought, I broke into a run.  
  
  
"Come back here!!!"   
  
  
Takaguchi's fingers grazed my neck as I approached the front door.   
  
  
Common Sense whispered calm assurances to my fears.   
  
  
The door ripped violently from the wall and dropped out of my way as I passed through.  
  
  
-The elevator to the left.-  
  
  
Our thunder echoed against the walls. My feet carried me across the hall to the elevator, a wary moment ahead of my predator.   
  
  
I turned around in the car just as he reached out to grab me.  
  
  
Then it sounded as if space itself had snapped in two.   
  
  
Takaguchi's chest exploded in blood, and the closing elevator door caught the bullet right before it hit my forehead.  
  
  
*  
  
  
"…I just want to go home..."  
  
  
I did not need to calm my own frightened gasps to know that he was with me in the elevator.  
  
  
"Don't you understand?" his nasal voice said calmly, "You don't have a home."  
  
  
"Yes I do. The theater—"  
  
  
"The theater?" He laughed. "'Good riddance'? That's not what a family member says to another family member. Your so-called father has let you go. Your own parents didn't want you—"  
  
  
"Stop it," I could feel my voice rising from the depths of fear. "That means nothing. Things happen to people that cannot be helped. That does not mean that a family has to fall apart."  
  
  
"The family hasn't come apart. It's been complete all this time… You're just the extra."  
  
  
"It's not true. They were kind to me. 'Tousan, he tried to save me--"  
  
  
"--Then why was it Crawford who had to check on you this morning?"  
  
  
My cheeks were wet again. "This isn't fair."  
  
  
"You have already told yourself that you'll no longer ingratiate yourself towards them. Happy pictures can't be painted with turpentine. You shouldn't lie to yourself, little boy. You shouldn't lie, period." He put his lips to my ear and continued: "And don't forget - you almost lost yourself back there. If we keep you, it will be rough trying to earn Crawford's affection. His loyalty does not come free."  
  
  
The elevator door opened again, on another floor. I was shoved into someone else's arms - the one called Farfarello – before I could run. His rough hands gripped my arms, and turned me around to face the guide to my future.  
  
  
His eyes were closed, and his hands still behind his back. There was a subtle curve to his lips, neither happy nor amused.  
  
  
"Crawford." I choked on the name of the man who held me together, yet was responsible for my undoing.  
  
  
"I really don't think he's the one," Schuldich said nonchalantly, sauntering slowly to Crawford's side. "He barely managed to get away from Takaguchi."  
  
  
Crawford opened his eyes as he replied: "He's new to this. He has time to adjust." He looked genuinely concerned, lifting my chin to examine my bruised throat. "Are you all right?"  
  
  
Deep inside the crater of my heart, feelings teetered between hate and hope. "… Why?" my voice shook against the task. "Why did this happen?"  
  
  
"Your father-" Crawford stepped back to examine the rest of me, "-and Takaguchi did not know how to handle each other. Or you, for that matter."  
  
  
"But you knew!" I cried. The windows in the hallways shattered. "Did you also know I could do this?! Do you control the future?"  
  
  
"Farfarello, let him go."  
  
  
My body gave in at the opportunity. I put my hands out the catch the floor. "Is it… Is it because of-… What I can do?"  
  
  
-Was it all a lie?-  
  
  
"You're a telekinetic," Crawford explained softly, kneeling beside me, "You have the ability to move things with your mind. I am clairvoyant, and I have the ability to see the future. My power over the future … derives from the actions I take."  
  
  
"Power." I turned my head to stare at Crawford. "… That's why you were willing to let this happen?"  
  
  
His moment of hesitation was enough of a reply.  
  
  
"Everyone wants to use me…" I whispered. All that was left of me was a shell of wet, leaking fractures. "What makes you any different? Why did you put in such an effort to control me?"  
  
  
"Don't you see?" Schuldich interjected, "We have something to give you in return…"  
  
  
"What could you possibly give me to make up for ruining my life?!"  
  
  
A smirk slipped across his face before he responded with: "So many tears over your life. How about a new one?"  
  
  
"A new…?"  
  
  
"We can give you a new life and teach you control-" Crawford explained, "-If you become one of us. But in order for that to happen, you must reject Japan as your home."  
  
  
"… That's… That…."  
  
  
"If you are willing to accept that sacrifice, then you are willing to accept who you are about to become. Do you understand?"  
  
  
For some reason, I did not have the urge to ask what would happen if I said no. It was then that I realized how cold it had become.   
  
  
Crawford's jacket settled over my shoulders. "Is Takaguchi dead?"   
  
  
"And others who shared his idiocy."  
  
  
I could not picture these killers as my family. But I also could not picture my life without Crawford. I suddenly felt that everything that had been taken away was gone because I had actively departed from these parts of my life.  
  
  
Crawford's hand drifted to my cheek, wiping the tears away.  
  
  
-His touch is the same, despite the darkness within him.-  
  
  
I closed my eyes and said a silent goodbye to my memories. "… I do not have it in me-" I sobbed into his palm, "-To say no."  
  
  
"Fujihara Nagi," he said, showing me his smile, "Welcome to Schwarz."  
  
  
"Naoe," I corrected through sniffles.  
  
  
"… What?"  
  
  
Fujihara Nagi, from the moment proclaimed a Fujihara, never had a chance of finding something more in life, could never dream of growing the wings necessary to touch to heavens. My character Naoe, however, from that very first gleaming moment on the stage, had heaven at her feet.  
  
  
I looked Crawford in the eye, seeing still the enchantment of my star.  
  
  
"I am Naoe Nagi."  
  
  
All that was left, was to fall.  
  
  
  
  
  
*owari*  
  
  
  
  
A/N: All right. It's done… Mucho tres tottemo thanks to everyone who reviewed, this was a therapeutic writing project – and an amiable diversion from Painting You Gold - and y'all made it more enjoyable in more ways than I can describe! :D I have a sequel in mind for what happens when Nagi goes to Rosenkreuz and becomes the Nagi we all know and love. Not sure if I'll pursue it though, PYG's getting a little anxious and with another new fic idea on the way, I think it's going to need therapy soon.  
  
Anyhoo…. Yoyotan! Ceci! XDDDD I FINISHED A FIC! IT'S POSSIBLE!!!!!  
  
We should probably check the temperature of hell now…  



End file.
